We had 13 at our Thanksgiving feast. We anticipated that we might have 15 (or 16), but 13 stretched our resource of space. We could have – and would have – accommodated the additional guests. We certainly had more than enough food. But a few years ago, we sold our house in a move toward downsizing.
Though Nancy refers to our home as a “tiny house,” she exaggerates. To underscore the point, we stayed in a condo in Breckenridge last summer. The bathroom was literally a hallway connecting the bedroom to the living area, and you would accidentally pull the towels off the rack if you didn’t turn sideways as you passed. The living area served the dual purposes of being a living room and kitchen, with the sink and stove in one corner and the refrigerator next to the TV on the other side of the room. That was a tiny house!
We found our transition from a four-plus bedroom house to a three-bedroom house to be rather liberating. Not a month passes without a comment on how we don’t miss anything we freed ourselves of: selling, donating, giving to friends and family. Literally, however, we occasionally identify something we miss; I sometimes miss the paper cutter, and Nancy even asked me about it a couple days ago; we noted that our old Lil’ Smokey charcoal grill did not make it, and out of a misguided sense of nostalgia, we bought one that was similar – it’s still in the unopened box in the garage!
Despite the few items we occasionally miss, the move has been good. We eventually admitted, though, that our new location added 15 minutes to seemingly everywhere we used to go (except to Nancy’s families’ houses, which are 15 or more minutes closer!). So, we discovered new places to go, adding a mild sense of adventure and breaking us from unrealized routines.
It’s interesting to ponder if our transition to “tiny house living” would have been different under “normal” circumstances: Covid shut us in within six months of our move. Other than occasional drives in the country with the sole purpose of getting out of the house, we mostly sat on the front porch or in the entryway to our house, in our lawn chairs, watching neighbors walk their dogs. To this day, I recognize more neighbors by their dogs than by the human at the other end of the leash.
This Thanksgiving, with 13 family members loading plates with turkey, dressing, sweet potatoes, and the many other dishes we enjoy, was more of a return to “normal”; though we have varied the routine over the years, such as meeting family at a casino and enjoying their buffet. One year Nancy, Michael (son), and I had Mexican; when I ordered the food, I jokingly asked if they could make the giant burrito in the shape of a turkey.
Our gatherings generally are filled with good conversations and healthy doses of laughter. We have more to laugh about some years than others. We took our two dogs with us to my sister-in-law’s one year. Our dogs and our niece’s dog got along especially well (all three were rescues with good temperaments). At one point, however, we noted the absence of our 70-pound lab/border collie mix. One of the cats had her cornered – with her nose literally in the corner – of an upstairs bathroom! Another year, my father-in-law decided to remove his dentures after all the chewing he did at dinner (I can relate because I sometimes remove my shoes after being on my feet all day). I came into the living room and noticed that our dog (at that time, we had one) had something in his mouth – yes, he had snatched my father-in-law’s teeth from the table!
Individual circumstances might vary, but Thanksgiving is bound in tradition. I grew up with the maxim not to discuss religion or politics at dinner. In today’s environment, that’s hardly practical – it would be a quiet dinner as politics and religion dominate the news. And, of course, topics like sex were completely out of the question. I was a strong adherent to the maxim for most of my life, but I can change with the times! I particularly enjoyed watching our niece slack-jawed and wide-eyed as she listened to her then-14-year-old son explain the sexual connotations during a game of “Cards Against Humanity.” I just nodded my head and thanked him for the explanation! It’s surprising how much you can learn sitting around the table.
Of course, one of the traditions is the prayer of Thanksgiving. Often the prayer is a catchy little sing-song mnemonic delivered by the youngest “capable” child. This year, Nancy was able to convince the 10-year-old to read the prayer by Robert Louis Stevenson that she discovered some time back. Whether she recites that prayer, or an impromptu prayer, Nancy almost always adds her hope that the war in Ukraine conclude peacefully so the Ukrainians can rebuild their lives in their sovereign nation.
I have been reading Fascism: A Warning, a historically researched narrative by Madeleine Albright, former U.S. Secretary of State and Representative to the United Nations. At one point she describes the assault on London – where her family had fled as refugees – by the German Luftwaffe during World War II. Bombings of houses, schools, businesses paralleled the aerial attacks by the Russians on the Ukrainian people. As dispiriting as it seems, the historical parallels offer hope that the Ukrainians will similarly rebuild their nation’s infrastructure and be stronger for having survived.
Having hope is an act of thanksgiving: what we will have in the future. Thanksgiving, however, is also for what we have now; the fruits of our actions and good fortune over time that has brought us to this point. Thanks for the bounty of food represented by the meal. Thanks for our houses, cars, work, recreation. Thanks for our health. Thanks for loved ones – family and friends – still with us. If Memorial Day is one to remember those who preceded us in death, Thanksgiving is one to celebrate all who are with us. It is a time for reflection, and for gratitude, for all that is good in our lives.
Those things for which we are thankful are made more apparent by the adversity we have experienced, as well. All of us experience adversities that vary broadly in magnitude, from a speeding ticket to a car accident to loss of a job to major illness to the loss of a family member or friend. I have heard of families that will set an empty chair and place-setting at their Thanksgiving table as a reminder of how blessed they were to have had a particular person in their collective lives.
We follow another tradition: the frenzy of shopping on Black Friday, to be continued on Cyber-Monday, which has morphed into Cyber-Week. The traditional explanation of Black Friday is that retailers typically operated “in the red” (at a loss) until Black Friday, when they would become profitable for the year based on the volume of Christmas/holiday shopping. Our economy is based on consumer spending. If you don’t believe it, recall what President Bush identified as the best thing Americans could do following the attacks of 9/11: go shopping!
Indeed, though the push to establish Thanksgiving as a holiday pre-dates the Civil War, it was not officially designated as one until Abraham Lincoln’s proclamation in 1863, followed by legislative action after the Civil War. It was designated to be celebrated each year on the last Thursday of November.
In 1939, however, President Roosevelt issued a proclamation moving the holiday ahead by one week, to the fourth Thursday. Roosevelt was heavily lobbied by the retail industry to move the holiday up by a week because November had five Thursdays that year. It was on the heels of the Great Depression and retailers convinced the president of the need for an extra week of shopping to aid in their economic recovery.
Confusion and disgruntlement reigned following the change made in March. Calendar makers had long-since published their calendars with the last Thursday designated, for example. Significant numbers complained to such an extent that about half of the states refused to change the date, thus compounding the confusion. Congress eventually passed an act identifying the Thanksgiving holiday as being the fourth Thursday of November and removing the president’s ability to arbitrarily change the date.
Considering Thanksgiving as a launchpad for Black Friday and frantic holiday shopping offers mixed feelings. On the one hand, the frenzied shopping, the emphasis on things, seems to detract from the intent of the holidays, be it Hannukah, Kwanzaa, or Christmas. On the other hand, strengthening the consumer-based economy provides us with work and income to create a greater sense of gratitude.
Thanksgiving Day includes a couple more traditions: the Macy’s Christmas Parade and football. The Macy’s parade served as the basis for one of my favorite Christmas movies, Miracle on 34th Street. (Watch the 1947 original with Edmund Gwenn playing a delightfully convincing Kris Kringle.)
Football on Thanksgiving Day dates to 1869. Of particular interest, in my opinion, are the 19 consecutive Thanksgiving Day football games between the University of Missouri and the University of Kansas, beginning in 1892. The games were played in Kansas City until the conference stipulated that games must be played on a college campus; hence, MU hosted the 1911 game and created a new football tradition – Homecoming.
Professional football games on Thanksgiving Day began in the 1890s with various regional leagues, when football was more pastime than business. As those leagues merged and morphed into the National Football League, Thanksgiving games took on greater importance. The Detroit Lions, for example, has hosted a game every year since 1934. Generally, the games provide me with an opportunity/excuse for posting up on the sofa and allowing the turkey’s tryptophan to work its somnambulistic TV-watching magic. These days, however, with a childhood friend working as a player performance coordinator for the Lions, the games have taken on an added level of importance.
Former NFL Hall of Fame Coach and broadcaster John Madden is widely known for the Madden video football game. Another of his storied contributions to the marriage of Thanksgiving and football games is Turducken, in which a deboned chicken is stuffed into a deboned duck that is then stuffed into a deboned turkey. Madden didn’t invent the entrée, but he certainly popularized its association with NFL Thanksgiving football games.
Perhaps turducken can serve as a variation on our Thanksgiving dinner tradition next year!
Mike's Fountain Pen 
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